


An Apology

by nothingeverlost



Category: NCIS: New Orleans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 01:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11453136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
Summary: “Dwayne?”  Pride stood in front of her stove, a fork in one hand, CJ at his side listening attentively.  He’d brought his own apron with him.Or the one where Pride apologizes.





	An Apology

**Author's Note:**

> Post ep for Poetic Justice. Honestly I have like 200 post eps I want to write for this episode.
> 
> Also possible set up for Pride/Loretta but this is about their friendship.

Her senses were playing tricks on her. As she lay in bed, eyes still closed, Loretta could almost swear that she smelled sausage cooking. CJ never bothered making breakfast, though, and even if he did eat more than cereal it wouldn’t smell like that.

“CJ?” She slipped on a robe and walked down the hall the the kitchen; as she got closer she began to hear noises, and then voices.

“Now to do this proper you need a roux whisk, but your mom’s kitchen is a bit short when it comes to tools so we’ll make do. We need the flour and the drippings to mix before we add the milk.”

“Dwayne?” Pride stood in front of her stove, a fork in one hand, CJ at his side listening attentively. He’d brought his own apron with him.

“Morning, Loretta. Your timing is, as always, flawless. Breakfast will be ready in about five minutes. CJ can get you some coffee, can’t you CJ?” 

“Sure.” There was, apparently, a pot already made. Chicory, from the smell of it.

“Think we’re about ready for those eggs if you want to add them to the pan. Make sure you stir them up again before pouring them in,” he directed. On the other front burner was a pan of vegetables. It was more cooking than her kitchen had seen since, well the last time he’d come over to make a meal for her and her boys.

“Not that I don’t appreciate this, Dwayne, but what are you doing here? I thought we all agreed to take today off.” They’d spent the better part of a week working on his bar. The first two nights there had been more than a hundred people, which had made quick work of the cleaning, gutting, and reframing. The outside was all but done, but the detail work inside called for a smaller group, mostly just the team and Pride’s employees.

“We did, and I’m keeping my word not to step inside the bar.” She’d caught him sleeping there, the second night, slumped against the wall. It was good for him to take a step back. “CJ and I are going to take a look at that back porch of yours before it rots completely. Thought a good breakfast before we started was important. There’s biscuits in the oven for the gravy, and a fruit salad on the table. CJ’s finishing up the egg scramble.”

“The porch can wait.” She’d been avoiding the using the steps for months, ever since she’d tripped on a warped board coming in from the back yard. Dwayne was pouring milk into his pan, and she watched his hands. It was always interesting watching him cook but she was distracted by the scabs on his knuckles. They were healing, but he was pushing himself too hard. He’d jumped right into repairing his bar after days of being on the run. She wondered how many hours of sleep he’d gotten in the last week. Not enough. “You need to let your body rest. That’s not a suggestion from a friend, it’s an order from your doctor.”

“I’m in a kitchen and I’m talking to a good friend. This is resting.” The timer buzzed and Dwayne opened the oven to take out a tray of biscuits. He smiled, and on the surface it was like many Sundays they’d shared. But there was something more below the surface, a quiet desperation that still hadn’t faded.

“Dwayne…”

“Those eggs look just about right, CJ. Why don’t you give them some salt and pepper and then take a taste.” He turned off the heat under the gravy, ignoring her. 

“CJ, sweetheart, why don’t you take the eggs out to the table. We’ll bring the rest out in a minute.” The man was frustratingly stubborn. It was a good thing she was just as stubborn, if not more so. “And don’t cancel your plans to meet Jaivon and Cody at the park. You’re not working on the porch today.

CJ looked at Dwayne for a moment before nodding. “That’s okay with me.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind.” Loretta opened up a cabinet, taking out a bowl for the gravy and a basket for the biscuits. “You’re not working on the porch either, Dwayne. I see a hammer in your hand and I swear I’m calling Sebastian to borrow his handcuffs. Forced rest is better than no rest at all.”

“I need to do something, Loretta.”

“Go home, Dwayne. Call your daughter. Take a nap. Spend some time playing the piano. Go out and walk around this city you saved and remember why you were willing to risk everything for it.” She still had the letter he’d given her to hand over to the director. While the rest of the team knew he’d been willing to risk everything she was certain she was the only one that knew he hadn’t thought he’d be coming back.

“That’s not what I mean. I need...” He stopped, wiping a hand over his face. In the silence she could hear CJ tapping his foot on the floor. “I need to be here. I need to know that things between us are going to be okay. I don’t know how to fix what I did.”

“What you did saved lives and an entire community.” She could almost see the weight of the city on his shoulders.

“And I wouldn’t go back and change anything, because it was necessary. And that makes it harder. How can I be sorry, and tell you how much I hated hurting you, scaring you, but admit that I wouldn’t have done it different? When I think about how I treated you that night... I grabbed you, Loretta. Pushed you out of my way.” For the first time Loretta saw the anger he’d been holding onto. Not at Hamilton and those that would destroy people for profit, but at himself.

“I was never scared for myself. You didn’t hurt me. I was scared of losing you and how certain you were that it was going to happen.” And that would have been her last memory of him. That fear, that grief, that helplessness. It would have stayed with her the rest of her life. “You know I know what it’s like to be afraid of a man, someone you should be able to trust. Never for a moment have you reminded me of my husband, not even that night.”

“I’m sorry, Loretta.” His head hung down, eyes closed.

“I know you are.” She cupped his cheek gently with the palm of her hand for a moment before wrapping her arms around him. “We’re going to be okay.”

He held her tighter for a moment before letting go, and she hoped it wasn’t her imagination that a little of the desperation she’d seen in his eyes had faded. “Now I believe I was promised some biscuits and gravy. We’d better take them out to the dining room before we have a rebellious teenager on our hands.”

“Yes ma’am.” Dwayne took the gravy and she followed with the biscuits. Anxious to meet his friends, or perhaps wanting to be certain that they weren’t planning any construction projects, CJ asked to be excused after gulping down his food in typical teenage boy fashion, leaving the two of them alone to eat their breakfast at a more leisurely pace. She insisted on helping with the dishes.

“Why don’t you let me take a shower and get dressed, and we can walk down to the Quarter. I’ll buy you beignets.” She wasn’t quite ready to trust him to spend the afternoon alone.

“I’d like that.” He sat on the couch, probably not paying any attention to the medical journal he was thumbing through. She left him to it.

“I just need to get my purse.” When she returned to the living room she found Dwayne Pride stretched out on her couch, a pillow under his head, sound asleep. She took a blanket from the back of the armchair and laid it over him, lingering for a moment. The scab next to his eye was gone, the fresh skin puckered and pink. The signs of his fight were fading, but like he’d said more than once the scars were on the inside.

“We’re going to be okay,” she repeated in a whisper. It was a promise and a prayer.


End file.
